Slap Her, She's British
by Splash of Blue
Summary: When three new girls start making trouble at X, Fillmore thinks it’s all in a day’s work. But when he falls for one of the girls in the gang, things are going to get more and more complicated…
1. New Girl

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters or settings you may recognize, they all belong to Disney. I own all original characters and the plot. 

A/N: If you're wondering, Seren's name means 'star' in Welsh, and _Coronation Street_ (Corrie) and _Eastenders_ are popular British soaps, while _Top of the Pops_ is one of the most famous music shows and _My Family_ is a popular comedy. 

I don't hate Americans, but my three protagonists are all homesick and landed against their will in an unfamiliar country. They're upset and annoyed and so they're determined to think everything's worse than 'back home'. No offence to Americans, OK? 

Non-constructive flames will be fed to one of my assorted (and short-tempered) muses, who will come after the offender with flames and pitchforks. Apologies for the utterly useless title. 

The thirteen-year-old girl loitering calmly in the halls of X Middle School, twenty minutes after the bell for first class, stared brazenly at Ingrid Third, her dark chocolate eyes full of blatant cheek. 

"I hope you shoot your stylist, girl," she smirked, eyeing Ingrid's plain black dress, army boots and bright orange sash. "You're no rebel- more Goth, and that went out years ago. And what the hell's with the sash?" 

Ingrid suppressed a sarcastic retort to the unknown girl's calm insolence. "I don't know whether you've heard, _new girl_, but the Safety Patrol," she fingered the orange sash, "are the police of this school. You'd better get to class, or I'll be seeing you in detention." 

The girl's laugh was harsh. "Gonna make me, freak-a-zoid?" 

"If I have to." Ingrid was fast, her grabbing hand a skill she'd learnt in one her infamous ex-schools, but the other girl was faster. Her nails, their pink glitter a mocking contrast to her sneering face, dug into Ingrid's pale arm and she twisted away and went racing down the corridor and out of sight. Ingrid sighed. There couldn't be too many new girls with that highly unusual, bittersweet city accent in X: she'd catch up with the truant later. 

As Seren Charles' ebony ringlets, their tips highlighted with red, disappeared round the corner, the new girl dared to look back for the first time, smirking as she realised she wasn't being followed by the weird girl with the weirder fashion sense. She strolled into the nearest bathroom, ignoring the glare of the only occupant, a tall white-blonde she hadn't seen before. After all, it _was_ her first day; she couldn't be expected to know everyone. Seren turned her back on the blonde and concentrated on fixing the makeup she'd been intending to finish applying before the Goth-girl had shown up. Finishing, she surveyed herself in the large mirror over the sinks, smirking characteristically at her London fashion-sense: slick but quirky with an undeniable sense of original style; from the black four-inch-heel ankle boots over tight, floorlength jeans and one-shouldered red top to her hoopy silver earrings and perfect tight, jet and crimson curls, she knew she looked good. A softly drawling Scots accent from behind made her turn. 

"Well, well, if it isn't the new girl. A Taff, if I'm not mistaken. City girl?" 

The first true smile she'd worn in weeks lifted the corners of Seren's red lips. "Finally, another Celt! Yeah, I'm Welsh all right, but I've lived six years in London till my 'loving' parents dragged me to this dump. You?" 

"Edinburgh, born and bred. Same problem with the parents. I'm Cassie McDonagh, by the way, who're you?" 

"Seren Charles. How long've you been here?" 

Cassie grimaced. "Six months, two days and counting. I've got another year and a half to go, minimum, probably more. Got clear mascara?" 

Seren pulled an identical face as she handed Cassie a small black tube. "I got here Friday and I've at least eighteen months to go. Maybe I can show you London when we get back?" 

"Sounds cool. I've been there once, but we just hit the touristy stuff." Cassie, application of mascara over, pouted in the mirror to slick a light berry gloss over her lips. "Edinburgh's wicked, I really miss that place. And none of the Yanks get proper sarcasm, you know?" 

The other girl scowled. "Tell me about it. Take the assembly this morning; back in London I used to keep the girls next to me laughing with a running commentary on what was being said; here they just looked confused. Half of them have never heard of Wales, either, and those that do think it's like the back end of beyond. And they're even," her tone was one of total disbelief, "doing a musical based on the life of the Head: the 'Principal' for God's sake! I mean, they're just so, so, so- _arrgh_!" 

"I know, I know. But hey, at least we don't have to wear uniform." 

"Probably the only bright spot in eighteen months of total hell." 

The ringing of the bell for second class punctuated the conversation and the girls rolled their eyes at each other, clearly deciding whether it was worth the bother of attending class. 

"May as well keep the teachers happy for now," said Seren resignedly, grabbing for her badge-encrusted denim bag, a going-away present from her friends back home. "Coming?" 

Cassie groaned wearily but followed. "Not that they care much, anyway, since we're only here for another eighteen months." 

Yawning through Miss MacKenzie's Pre-Algebra class- even a name from home couldn't make _this_ lesson interesting- Cassie doodled idly on her writing book, half asleep, her CD-player's earphone lead safely concealed up one sleeve, her hand covering her ear in the typical bored and/or exhausted student's pose. The warm classroom meant a mild stupor was inevitable for one who had spent the small hours scrolling the channels of American Cable for the last week's _Eastenders_. 

_Get up stand up, make a difference _

_one shout is louder than a thousand whispers _

_each breath bring death closer _

_what breath u got left make the most of _

_till your life is over _

_see the time, life don't pause that record _

_slow rewind, one time to hear that section _

_hear opinions, but you gotta rule in your kingdom _

_make choices that cause you to realise your vision _

"Cassandra McDonagh, what did I just say?" The teacher's voice demanded through the sound of Ms Dynamite's _Get Up, Stand Up_, anger creeping at the edges of her tone. "And you'd better get it right, or you've got half an hour's detention after school." 

Cassie's mind was blank as she tried desperately to remember the way the teacher's lesson had been heading and conceal her CD player at the same time. Suddenly the girl next to her hissed, "The values of x… always the same." 

"Umm… the values of x are always the same?" 

The teacher nodded huffily, deprived of her victim. "Correct. And next time do try to look a little more awake, Miss McDonagh." 

Cassie waited until the teacher was engrossed in her lecture once more before she grinned at the girl who'd saved her from detention. "Thanks- I owe you one." 

She knew the girl was the class geek, someone who back home would have been called a 'square' and therefore some bitching from idiot airheads like the blonde sports reporter, whose name she couldn't be bothered to remember, would almost certainly ensue if she continued to talk to her, but Cassie had never been one for going with the crowd. What was her name now…? 

"No worries," the rescuer smiled shyly, her whisper so quiet Cassie had to lean closer to hear. That accent… it wasn't like her usual voice- 

"Are you Irish?" she asked suddenly. The girl's pale peach complexion went pink. 

"Yeah- I learnt how to 'do' an American accent after a while, I got teased so much." Niamh, that was the name. Curly, milk-chocolate coloured hair cropped short, large, wide bottle-green eyes and small black-framed glasses stark against a thinly freckled, pale, pointed, elflike face and a tiny frame only reaching Cassie's shoulders: painfully shy, the sort of girl who was easily teased and more easily ignored. 

The bell for the end of class interrupted their brief conversation and they joined the rest of the groaning, yawning throng in the rush for the door. 

It was three o'clock and the bell for end of classes went, signalling freedom for the two hundred-odd students of X. Cassie and Seren were walking together, discussing the teachers and TV from 'back home', and weren't British programmes much better than the American stuff? as though they'd been best friends for years. 

"I don't know, so much of the American programmes, it's so- simple?" said Cassie. "You know, so politically correct and stuff. I mean, where's _Coronation Street_ and _Eastenders_?" 

"Yeah, kinda- but some of the comedy's good. You know, _Friends_ and stuff," pointed out Seren. "Though I think I'm developing a _My Family_ and _Top of the Pops_ withdrawal complex and I didn't think I could miss Corrie as much as I am. So what music d'you like?" 

"Garage, kinda, but mostly rock. You know, Good Charlotte, Linkin Park and stuff." 

"Cool; I like garage too, and RnB: Ms Dynamite, Big Brovaz, Misteeq, mostly, but also Avril Lavigne, Robbie Williams, Madonna, Sugababes and Pink. _Not_ pop- Britney Spears just makes me want to scream, though Blue aren't bad." 

"What did you think of the last Robbie single? _Feel_ or something, wasn't it? I liked it, but I didn't buy it." 

"I thought it was good too- I've got it somewhere. Want to borrow it?" offered Seren. 

"Yeah, thanks. Hey, what's going on over there?" 

"Looks like whatsherface, Jenna's having a bitchfest over that little brunette girl, poor dab." 

"Oh yeah- Niamh, the kid's name is, she's Irish." 

The two girls glanced at each other. "Well, I _do_ owe Niamh for earlier, she got me out of a half-hour's detention," said Cassie slowly. "And anyway, she's a fellow-Celt, we should probably stick together." 

"And it _would_ be fun to trash that Jenna-ditz's party," agreed Seren. "Shall we?" 

"Why not?" 

"But look at her clothes!" Jenna Eisenhower was saying loudly to the rest of the 'popular' crowd, who tittered in agreement. "Like, loser alert!" 

Niamh went bright red and tried to walk off, but the group followed. Suddenly the other two girls stood next to her, arm-in-arm. 

"Well, if it ain't the li'l ole ditz patrol, y'all?" drawled Seren in a ludicrous mock-American accent. "Ooh, daddy, daddy, I'm scared!" 

"Like, eww!" retorted Jenna. "What are you _wearing_? But oh, I guess your Mom sewed it together for you in that weirdo place you come from- Wells, wasn't it?" 

"If we're going to talk about clothes, I'd sue your stylist, bimbo," sneered Cassie. "Let me guess, you're a cheerleader? Ahh, traditional American style- or lack of it. All preppy and sweetness-and-light on the outside, but bitch-queen on the inner. Where we come from, you'd be eaten alive. Small-town hicks, the lot of you!" 

"London, Edinburgh- they're tough," sniggered Seren. "You wouldn't last five minutes before you got mugged- and _that's_ if you were lucky. Daddy's Gold Card can't save you where we grew up, little girls." 

Jenna's friend Claudia wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, whatever, weirdos. You're not so tough." 

"Oh, are we not? Go back to playing with your Barbies and nagging Daddy for new toys and leave our _friend_ alone," warned Cassie. "Or we might actually have to show you how tough we are- and I don't think you'd like that. Go on, scat!" She brought one fist up as a warning and the girls skittered hastily backwards; Seren swung one foot dangerously close to Jenna for added effect, trying not to giggle, and the gang moved hastily off. 

As soon as they could be reasonably sure Jenna, Claudia and co. were out of earshot, all three British girls burst into hysterical laughter. 

"But her face when you were gonna kick her!" Niamh sniggered uncontrollably. "I thought she was going to explode!" 

"Edinburgh- tough?" chuckled Cassie. "Where have you been, girl?" 

"Loser alert!" Seren giggled helplessly. "Where do they get this stuff from?" 

It was five minutes before any of the girls could keep a straight face. 

"Um… thanks," said Niamh at last. "But- why'd you bother?" 

Cassie grinned. "Well, for a start I owed you for getting me out of detention earlier, and for another thing, we just love raining on those sort of girls' parades. By the way, this is Seren, it's her first day here. She's Welsh." 

Seren laughed. "Thank God for another Brit," she said, offering the arm that was not linked through Cassie's to Niamh. "I think I'd go mad if it wasn't for Cassie and you. Anyway, us Celt girls have gotta stick together!" 

Niamh took the proffered arm. "When did you move in?" 

"Just Saturday, on Crystobal Avenue," Seren replied. "D'you know it?" 

"It's a couple of streets away from me," nodded Cassie. "But I've got to get going- I'm supposed to be walking the dogs." 

"I'll walk back with you then," Seren said, then giggled. "Actually, I'm not sure if I can remember the way." 

"And you called _them_ ditzes?" teased Niamh. "Yeah, I should probably be going as well." 

"First, though, tell me: what's this 'Safety Patrol' thing anyway?" asked Seren. "I bumped into one of 'em in the corridor during first lesson: some gothic-looking girl in an orange sash and wicked army boots." 

"That'll be Ingrid Third," said Cassie knowledgably. "She's like the only rebel in school, though I agree she looks more like a Goth. She's supposed to be some sort of child-genius, photographic memory and all, and she's been chucked out of loads of different school before now." 

Niamh took over. "The Safety Patrol's like a sort of school police: they have identity cards and an orange sash to show who they are. They have files on everyone in the school, all the things they've ever done wrong." 

Seren shook her head. "_Weird_." 

"Tell me about it," agreed Cassie. "But to be fair, they do the job- Ingrid and her partner, a guy called Fillmore, have cracked loads of cases and she's only been here a couple of months." She glanced at her watch and started in surprise. "Sorry you two, but I've really gotta dash- I should have been home ten minutes ago!" 

"Me too," nodded Niamh. "See you!" 

*********************************************************************************** 

A/N: Feed a writer. Review today! 


	2. TransContinental Conversation

Part 2: Trans-Continental Conversation 

gingerbread_carlyn@girlgotwheels.com has signed in. 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _Hi Carlyn _

Rehab's for quitters says: How's it going, Seren? 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _The school's scary, but I met a couple of other Brits, Niamh and Cassie, who aren't so bad. Can you believe they're doing a musical based on the life of the HEAD MISTRESS?!?! And just to add insult to injury, I, straight-set-ONE-Seren, have been put down a year, just because my birthday's in August. They're all twelve-year-olds in my class! _

Rehab's for quitters says: OMG. How are you surviving?!? 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _The same way I survive everywhere- mocking the system. After all, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. If you can't join 'em, bribe 'em. And if you can't bribe 'em- _

Rehab's for quitters says: BLACKMAIL 'EM!!! Lol. Been caught yet? 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _What do you mean, YET? I do NOT get caught, girl- unless it's a bad day anyway, lol. But yes, kinda, only by this weird girl who's part of like, the student police for the school. She can't do anything- she doesn't even know who I am! _

Rehab's for quitters says: That's my best mate! 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _Never mind my blatant self-pity-fest, how's it going for you in the land of decent chocolate? I still can't believe this place doesn't do Cadbury's. _

Rehab's for quitters says: Not too bad. Miss. Mann's being scarily NICE for the moment, which is weird. 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _It's just relief because I left, Carl- she won't have to put up with seeing my ugly mug in detention every other day. It won't last. _

Rehab's for quitters says: Tell me about it. BTW, there's a new series of My Family on tomorrow night, do you want it taped as well as Corrie and TOTPs? 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _Yes ta- can't wait for your first monthly parcel of Britishness. Make sure there's Thornton's chocs in it and I'll make it worth your while. _

Rehab's for quitters says: Of course. Were the cats OK on the journey? 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _I think so- Amethyst was sick once as they unloaded them from the plane but she was the only one, and after all she's only a kitten. We can't let 'em out here because a lot of the wild animals have rabies, so they stay in the conservatory and I get to keep the place clean. _

Rehab's for quitters says: Sounds like fun. Not. 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _Believe me, it isn't. But it's definitely better than making them stay behind. How could I ever have sold all my pack?_

Rehab's for quitters says: I know, I'd feel like that about Patch, and he's only one puppy, you've got half a dozen cats. What singles do you want me to get? 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _Eight cats, actually. ::smirks::_ _Mis-Teeq, J-Lo, Girls Aloud and the Evanescence album- there's not enough cash in our joint account for the album, but it should be in tomorrow._

Rehab's for quitters says: K, me and Tom are going shopping tomorrow so I can get it all then. 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _I can't believe I'm the only girl out of our gang not getting any action- how low can I have sunk? At least tell me Joe's missing me!_

Rehab's for quitters says: Um, I don't know how to break this to you, but… 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _OMG, WHAT? Please don't tell me what I think you're going to tell me!_

Rehab's for quitters says: Sorry Seren, he was seen snogging the face off one Claire Lavelle Friday night outside the Youth Group. 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _That two-bit tramp! And Claire too! I thought at least HE had taste! He must really have been desperate, though. Sharing saliva with Claire Lavatory herself?!?! _

Rehab's for quitters says: I know, I know, scary isn't it? 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _Never mind scary, more like child pornography- she's twelve and he's fifteen for crying out loud!_

Rehab's for quitters says: You should try WATCHING- it's more horrifying than the Blair Witch Project and Donny Darko put together. 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _Lol. Please, don't give me a mental image Carl. Iwillnotthinkaboutit, Iwillnotthink, Iwillnot… too late. EWWW!!!!!!!! I am SO going to murder him when I get back._

Rehab's for quitters says: Make sure I'm there when you do it. FYI, you're not the only one not getting action- Natasha's broken up with Sean 'cause he was cheating on her. REPEATEDLY. 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _OMG, the poor dab! She did at least hit the tosser, right? _

Rehab's for quitters says: Oh boy, did she ever- in front of the entire 50-member wind band, too. Just strode right up to him and went: "It's over- WHACK!!!" Right in the kisser! 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _LOL!!! What damage?_

Rehab's for quitters says: You could see every single one of her fingers on his cheek, and she sharpened her fingernails to a point especially so they drew blood. The red handprint didn't fade till the end of school, and it was first lesson she hit him. SIX hours- we think it's got to be some kind of a record! 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says:_ Lol. Looks like those judo lessons have been paying off. Hope you got pictures._

Rehab's for quitters says: Of course. I've got to go- I'm supposed to shower before bed. 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _K, I still can't get used to the time difference. Same time tomoz?_

Rehab's for quitters says: Yeah, ciao baby. 

There are no good girls, only bad girls who don't get caught says: _Toodles!_

perfectwelshandproud@chicagalesa.co.uk is offline. 


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